From the Lair of the Dragon
by absolute power
Summary: Untold stories and slices of life from the Alfred the Racist Dragon universe.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Finally, it's here! I've been writing this for ages and I've only gotten to finish it now. :) Well, this is the first of approximately ten parts (things may be added as we go along) of the follow-up to Alfred the Racist Dragon. It will contain backstories, slices of life, and other things, mostly set during the (first) two years that Arthur and Alfred spent together. Of course, not everything will be part of the timeline, but I'll try to keep it in there as much as I can. :D

I've looked over this chapter and I'm honestly not satisfied (but then again I never am) so please leave me a review! I'd love to know what you think, on which points I can improve, and whether I did a satisfactory job or not. :)

Link to Alfred the Racist Dragon if you aren't familiar with this universe: http://www. fanfiction. net/s/5800141/1/ Alfred_the_Racist_Dragon

* * *

**Day 45: Letters**

**

* * *

**

It hadn't taken Arthur long to realise that Alfred's usual form was the reptilian one, to his discomfort. He didn't think he'd ever go quite accustomed to living with a dragon, but he did his best to keep himself composed and not lose his head like he had that day he was first captured. Even after so many weeks of being in such close proximity, he couldn't help but stiffen every time Alfred came too close, no matter what form he was in. As a dragon, Alfred naturally could strike fear into the hearts of the coldest man, and as a human- well, it struck a different kind of fear into Arthur's heart.

He forced himself to relax when he heard the sound of clinking metallic scales, imagining Alfred stretching up as usual from his place on the floor beside the bed as he woke from his slumber. The tell-tale thuds of heavy footsteps approaching made some loose items in the cave squeak and tremble against each other, and Arthur scrambled to keep the assorted bric-a-brac from falling and breaking on the stone floor. He wondered how Alfred had managed to keep his entire treasury intact without him- and quickly shut down that train of thought as unwanted memories of village stories about kidnapped virgins entered his mind. He didn't want to think of himself as one of those poor souls.

He calmed down considerably when Alfred finally entered his line of vision. Despite not being quite used to living with a dragon, the sight of Alfred in his natural form was quickly becoming welcome. It was easy to see that he wasn't going to sneak behind him and terrify him with a sudden roar (like he had done once before, after which Arthur had hurled numerous items at his head) or simply accidentally crush him beneath giant feet. Arthur fancied sometimes that he was starting to see human expressions on Alfred's face- a particular snarling face was actually happiness, and narrowed eyes meant he was in an uncharacteristically dark mood. It was charming, in its own way, though Arthur hated to admit it.

A cloud of white smoke filled the cave, and Arthur gave a tiny smile as Alfred the man stood before him again.

"Good morning, Arthur!" he greeted brightly, bounding up to the teenager and grinning. He seemed to have forgotten the fact that he was completely naked.

"Put some clothes on, would you?" Arthur replied, scowling. "It's improper for a young man to be prancing about unclothed like an idiot."

Alfred scoffed. "Yeah, well, we're not exactly in proper society are we? So I can do whatever I want!"

"However, you-"

The sound of a growling stomach interrupted the impending argument, and Arthur blushed. Alfred brightened considerably.

"All right! That means it's time for breakfast. I was thinking of something different-"

"Really, now?" Arthur interrupted, half-hopeful. He had noticed the dragon's strange addiction to cows, and seeing as cows had made up their meals for just about 40 days, he didn't think it would stop soon. "Something other than beef?"

"Hell no!" Alfred exclaimed, grinning again. "I was gonna raid that other town's pasture. They have some pretty appetizing-looking black-and-whites over there."

Arthur could have screamed. Instead, he settled for an irritated, sarcastic, "Well, I was hoping for something a bit lighter."

"Oh!" Alfred's eyes widened in understanding, and Arthur perked up a little. "I don't know if I can fire it up well, but would you like rabbit, then?"

Just as quickly, the flame was extinguished. He had always loved rabbits. "Er- never mind. Cows are fine."

"Excellent." Arthur couldn't help but feel he had been had.

As Alfred prepared to leave, he slumped down onto the bed, staring blankly at the dark ceiling as he tried to decide what to do. Despite his captor being nothing but accommodating and kind- aside from the cows dispute- his protectiveness, and dare he say possessiveness, did not leave much for Arthur to do during the day. He practised with his rapier sometimes, but without a partner or even dummies it was boring and repetitive. He was no longer ashamed to admit he missed his brothers, and even the Great Wizard Gilbert, but he was starting to believe that he'd never see them again, even if Alfred had promised visits-

A gentle hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. "Hey, what's got you so glum?" Alfred's voice was uncharacteristically soft.

Arthur sighed. "It's nothing. It's just... I still want to go home."

It had been murmured softly, resignedly, but perhaps Alfred retained his dragon form's heightened senses because the grip on his shoulder tightened before he spoke. "I'm sorry. I just- thanks for being honest with me." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Like I said before, you're pretty brave for a human."

A snort. "Well, you're a surprisingly not-terrifying dragon."

Alfred laughed. "I do have my moments, though. Say," his hand had not yet left Arthur's shoulder. "I, uh, I'm stopping by a village on the way, to pick some things up. I know a guy there, and if you, you know, want anything passed on to your brothers I can have him send it over. 'Course, the guy doesn't know I'm a dragon so maybe you could, like, not give me away? Seal a letter or something?"

Arthur stared at him with wide eyes, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. "You- you're letting me write to them?"

"Yeah." Alfred's eyes crinkled up in a characteristic grin, and Arthur could have kissed him.

He dashed around the cave, picking up a quill and an inkwell, and ripping out a piece of blank parchment from an old book- at this point, he was past caring about it.

_Dear brothers_, he wrote, then crossed it out with a frown. _To my brothers. I assume you are surprised at your sudden receipt of this letter. It is, indeed, from your youngest sibling. I am not dead, obviously. The dragon has been quite merciful and has decided to keep me here- for how long, I don't know. He has been very kind, and has treated me well. There is nothing to worry about_.

He didn't know quite what to say after that. He had never really talked very much with his brothers, and saying such civil things to them was a first. He decided to end it quickly, with a short _sincerely, Arthur_- and a rushed note of _his name is Alfred_ before sealing it with wax. He took a pinch of purple powder from a nearby jar- how exactly did Alfred get a hold of these ingredients?- and sprinkled it over the seal, taking a silver knife and making a small incision in his finger. He allowed a few drops of his blood to cover the powder and the seal, which sizzled before turning a dark brown. No one would be able to open it except those of the Kirkland line.

Speaking of which, he had to find a way to contact his tutor. But he didn't want to take advantage of Alfred's kindness, even if it would be the smart thing to do.

"All done?"

Arthur put his quill down and flashed a quick smile at Alfred. "Yes," he replied, a little giddy at the thought of making contact with society again. "Just tell the messenger to drop it off at Kirkland Castle. I take it he knows the way?"

"I'm sure he will," Alfred said with a grin. "Toris is really good."

"That's excellent." He handed the letter over, jolting a little when their fingers brushed against each other. Alfred let his hand linger a while longer than necessary, causing them both to flush lightly, then he snatched it away as if burned.

"Well then," Arthur said a little imperiously, as if writing the letter had revived some of the haughtiness that came with noble blood. "Off you go. And don't take too long- I expect a freshly cooked meal when you get back."

"Yes, milady!" Alfred said, giving a mock bow and laughing as Arthur took a swipe at him, which he dodged gracefully. Then he positioned himself to face the mouth of the cave and transformed back into his dragon state, stretching a little and brushing the top of the cavern. He gingerly picked up the letter, tiny in his giant claw, and bared his teeth to Arthur in a quick smile before taking off.

Arthur watched him go, feeling ridiculously like a housewife, but silently appreciating the view of the magnificent golden creature flying in the morning sunlight. It was awe-inspiring to see the powerful leathery wings beat against the air, forcing gravity itself to bow to the dragon, and despite himself, Arthur felt for the first time a certain pride in knowing that so much effort was being made for _him_ and no one else.

"After all," he mused, talking to himself, for in the empty cave, no one could hear him. He would never admit anything like this to Alfred. "How many other humans have such pleasant dragons to talk to every day?"

He whirled around, placing his hands on his hips and surveying the mess Alfred had made of the cave in his short time awake. He set to work, clearing things up and organising the vast treasure as he waited for the dragon to arrive.

After all, if his job was to be the more domestic side of their strange partnership- because he _wasn't_ a housewife, not at all- he was going to be damn good at it.


	2. Chapter 2

My goodness. It's been a long time, hasn't it? I'm really terribly sorry, but I was so uninspired for this. It kind of shows here as well. So anyway here's a chapter that doesn't have nearly enough words to cover my absence, but it's an important chapter nevertheless because it provides a bit more insight into their characters. :) So yeah, here goes crappy chapter with an off-topic bonus section that I absolutely could NOT resist putting in. XD Oh yeah, shoutout to my awesome friend **Ellarose C **who helped shaped the plot of this chapter. I'm sorry I ruined it, dear.

Anyway, if you liked it, please review! And if you didn't like it, please tell me how I can improve. :D Flames are mean as they'll leave me wondering what exactly I did wrong, so.. constructive criticism, please? :D

* * *

**Day 57: Argument**

It had been bubbling underneath the cordial greetings and daily routines for a long time, but on the fifty-seventh day of his capture Arthur Kirkland finally exploded.

"And what," he hissed menacingly, curling his hands into fists. "Do you think you are doing with that _woman_?"

"Hey, she's sleeping!" Alfred protested, holding up the limp body. "Couldn't you keep it down a bit?"

"She's _unconscious_, you dimwit. And she has absolutely no place in here!"

It had started off as a normal day for the both of them, with Arthur tidying up the place, reading a good book he had found buried under piles of scrolls, and practicing with his rapier. Alfred had gone out for a breath of fresh air after yet another lunch of beef, though he had been gone longer than usual. Arthur had just been drafting a letter to his brothers when the dragon had burst in, an unconscious woman in his claws and a bright smile on his reptilian face, much to Arthur's shock and anger.

Confused, Alfred could only gape at his usually mild-mannered and polite houseguest who was now seething with rage. "What the hell, man? Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

"This is no place for a woman!" Arthur grabbed the girl from Alfred's lax grip and gently laid her on the bed, smoothing a trembling hand through her chestnut hair, partly as an act of kindness and partly to calm himself down. "We're both male! And why is she unconscious anyway?"

"Hey, chill! I found her passed out in some meadow a little way from here, and I couldn't exactly leave her for the wolves, could I?"

"You could have dropped her off near the entrance to a town, I'm sure someone would have taken care of her."

"Hm, yeah, but I figured she looked pretty interesting so I brought her over here instead."

Arthur's hand stopped its motions, and he clenched his fist so hard into the girl's hair that his nails left blood-red imprints on his palm when he let go. He had turned white with fury, but colour was rising high in his cheeks and his thin shoulders were shaking with suppressed rage.

"Are you meaning to tell me..." he began, his tone deceptively even. "You took her from better medical attention, emotional care, and basically the whole of _civilisation_ because you found her interesting?"

Alfred scratched his head. "Well, it sounds bad when you put it that way..."

"You- you pig! You disgusting, evil piece of _vermin_! I should have known you for your foul ways the minute you brought me here, but-"

"Arthur!" Alfred shouted, shocked and hurt and angry. "Don't say such things!" He reached out a hand to touch Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur glared at him venomously and jerked back. "No! I am not under your control! I don't what to be a part of whatever sick fantasy you have-"

"_Sick fantasy_? Arthur, what the hell-?"

"You don't own me!" he yelled. "You can't just pick me off the ground and tell me to join in whatever goes on in that tiny, twisted brain of yours."

Alfred was quickly losing his temper as well. "What the _fuck_, Arthur? I don't get what the hell you're talking about!"

"Oh, of course, a _dragon_ wouldn't understand-"

It was too much for Alfred. With a roar, he transformed into his reptilian state and brought his head level with Arthur's eyes, snarling with rage. There was a vibration, a rumbling in his chest that Arthur knew meant he was gathering fire to blast at him, to roast him alive. For the first time in a long time, Arthur began to fear for his life, terrified of the sharp teeth and searing heat that hovered just inches above him. He pressed himself against a wall of the cave, shutting his eyes and averting his face so that he wouldn't have to glance in the face of his death. But he would not beg. If he had nothing else, he had his pride.

"What are we to you?" he hissed, his voice trembling as the dragon loomed over him, breathing hot air onto him and making him sweat. "Are humans just _playthings_ for you to pick up and discard when you feel like it? This woman has a _life_, Alfred, maybe a family, a suitor, or a child, wondering where she is and never knowing, never _imagining_ that she's safe but trapped in the lair of a dragon! Damn it, Alfred, _I_ had a life!" Angry, frightened tears were falling from his eyes, tears that he didn't bother wiping away, tears that had been a long time in coming. "I had brothers, friends, and servants! I had a horse named Oren and a magic tutor and squire training! I had my whole future ahead of me, but no." He laughed bitterly, whispering his next words. "No. You took it from me with one swipe of your claws, because you found me _interesting_. It's no matter to you that I can't fight back, no matter that I can't even try to escape without getting myself killed. You took my future, my dreams, my _dignity_. All because you found me interesting."

Alfred couldn't speak. Arthur never saw him transform, but he felt, more than heard, the clinking of metallic scales as they locked together and melded, and the soft _whoosh _of air as it rushed in to fill the space that the vast dragon had left.

"Finally speechless, eh?" Arthur gave a weak, forced smile. "I should have known all I had to do was yell at you."

"Arthur..." Alfred's eyes were clouded, and he reached out a trembling hand to grasp the other's arm. "I- I never thought- I never knew. I made you hate me so much..."

"How can I hate you?" Arthur choked out, biting his lip until it bled. "You've been so wonderful and considerate and so damn _kind_ to me- and maybe that's the worst part of this all."

Alfred reached out and grabbed Arthur's arm. "Please, tell me how I can make it up to you."

Arthur looked up and met the dragon's gaze defiantly. "Let us go."

Alfred looked pained. "I'm sorry. I won't."

"Then her!" Arthur cried in desperation. "Let her go! She doesn't deserve to be here. Isn't one human good enough for you?"

The dragon sighed deeply, and he was still for a moment, but then he nodded. "Alright. I'll let her go. I'll bring her out to the nearest town to the meadow. Maybe you were right; she was just a passing whim."

"And I wasn't?" Arthur mumbled. He was pulled into a tight, crushing hug.

"Arthur." The embrace tightened further. "Do you know how dragons get their treasure?"

Arthur gave a hollow laugh. "They pick it up because it's different?"

Alfred shook his head. "When they see it, they know they _have_ to have it. Like it's the only thing that could possibly sustain them. I've seen dragons go _insane_ from losing their possessions. We need our treasure. I'm sorry, I can't let you go. But this... could you make this your life now, Arthur?"

Arthur averted his eyes and rested his forehead on Alfred's shoulder, head pounding with the effort of his yelling and his tears. "That's a lot to ask for." His voice was shaking, trembling. "But... I think, even before you asked, I already have."

He sensed Alfred smile against his hair, and felt, more than heard, the low, satisfied rumble of "Mine."

_Yours_, he agreed hopelessly, closing his eyes and willing himself to accept it. _Yours._

"I'm so sorry. Really, I am."

"What was she to you, then?" he whispered.

"Nothing. Something pretty."

The slight relief he felt at the answer was out of place, confusing, frightening. What was this? Arthur took a breath to calm himself. "And what am I?" he asked, fearing the answer.

Alfred lifted Arthur's face up with a hand against his cheek, and Arthur's face burned at the intimate gesture. Surely the dragon had no idea what he was doing. "Something valuable I picked up," he said truthfully. "But you're not a possession to me, Arthur. You've got thoughts, and feelings, and opinions, and damn if you're not the strongest, kindest, bravest human I've ever met. You're not a possession, but I think I'd go mad if you left anyway."

And perhaps for the first time, Arthur looked into Alfred's feral, unnatural eyes and saw, not a beast or a kind captor, but a lonely boy desperately seeking companionship. It struck him, then, that Alfred had had no life- no life apart from collecting pretty things because that was what he had been born to do, a meaningless existence that would be left behind when he finally died. Arthur understood.

And maybe, the future that had been taken from him wasn't meant to be his at all, but something to be given to this solitary dragon who had never had one.

"Why would I leave?" he asked, voice still shaking, but his smile warm and sincere. "I'm yours, aren't I?"

Alfred gave a whoop of joy and crushed them together, laughing in relief, and Arthur thought in a moment of madness that he would have traded his life for this any day.

* * *

The Great Wizard Gilbert of Prussia huffed as he reached the meadow, stretching out a hand and closing his eyes. _Yep. She's been here all right._ He opened his unnaturally red eyes again- demon's eyes, some said- and scanned the surroundings. Now, where was she?

He fought the panic that was rising up in him and forced himself to calm down. It wouldn't do for His Supreme Awesomeness to start going hysterical over a missing girl. It had just been a mistake in his latest experiment. There must have been something wrong with the Teleportation Spell. Great wizards like him didn't miscast things, oh no.

_But where is she?_

Shielding his eyes from the sun he looked around the sky, wondering whether she was hiding in one of the trees to ambush him with some kitchen implement. That was when he saw the dragon.

"Shit!" He cursed, eyes widening. The dragon was huge, all golden and glinting in the sunlight, threatening claws curved around a figure... a very familiar figure.

He whipped out an arm and shot a ray of purple light at the dragon, missing by an inch and causing it to roll over in the air, bewildered and beating its wings frantically to stay aloft. Its head scanned the meadow, and two glimmering electric blue eyes narrowed as it spotted him.

_Shit_, he thought again, steadying his arm for another blast. But he hadn't prepared for the sudden heat, the searing air racing toward him-

"Oh boy," he muttered, blasting out an ice ray just in time to intercept the burst of fire. Hot steam filled the air, almost making him choke and tear up, but he forced himself to stay focused. The dragon still had her in its clutches.

"God, if she survives this, let me kill her." He raised his head, with his other hand, cast a magnifying spell on his throat. It was mind-bogglingly difficult to keep his focus on the ice beam while casting another spell, but he pushed himself harder and harder until his body trembled with the effort.

"Dragon!" He screamed at it. "Let the maiden go! She will not be prey to your depraved fantasies, not while I, the Great Wizard Gilbert of Prussia, have her under my protection!"

Suddenly, his ice blast met with no resistance, and he stumbled forward as the fire disappeared from the sky without warning. He looked up and saw the dragon descending, its eyes still glinting murderously-

And then it dumped the prone body of Elizaveta at his feet and promptly flew away, driving Gilbert to his knees as the force of its wingbeats battered his head and shoulders.

_Well,_ he thought, cracking his neck from side to side and shrugging his shoulders. _Another victory for the great me. Psh, I'm so amazing_.

He reached out to touch Elizaveta's cheek, noticing the high colour and the quickening breathing. That could only mean...

_Slap._

"Gilbert, you idiot! Look where I ended up! This is the _last_ time I'm going to let you experiment on me, I should have just gone home. Roderich stopped by with flowers and asked to woo, but _no,_ you just had to drag me off to your stupid tower with your stupid observatory and practice your stupid, stupid magic-"

As she babbled obscenities at him, Gilbert smiled and rubbed his stinging cheek that was sure to be bruised later. He picked up a daisy that had somehow, miraculously, managed to survive the epic fight, and tucked it behind her ear, smoothing out the stray hair.

"I don't care about your pansy-ass suitor, and you fucking lost your stupid flower, idiot," he explained elegantly when she turned red and lost the train of her rant.

_Yeah. I'm so awesome._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **And I am back, this time with a gift fic! So this chapter is the first of quite a few chapters which will interrupt the way we follow the normal lives of our two heroes and bring us forward/back in time to examine their relationship further. The reason this is a gift fic- the lovely **stoic-green **was the lucky 20th reviewer for _Alfred the Racist Dragon_, so she got a gift from me :) I hope you like it! And speaking of gifts, I also received a gift from her- wonderful fanart which I shall link at the bottom :D **Stoic-green**, I hope you're satisfied with this! :D

Many many thanks as well to **Ellarose C** who helped me through the highly emotional process of writing my first ever piece of smut- goodness knows I couldn't have done this without you. Thank you so much dearie. D:

I guess this is the first time any dragon chapter of mine has ever actually earned its M rating. So I'm flinging out a warning to everyone: this fic does contain relatively graphic smut. Also, there are vast amounts of Prussia and Hungary here, perhaps even more so than America and England, orz. Despite that, I hope you like it!

* * *

It turned out to be a grave mistake that Arthur and Alfred had forgotten to inform certain people of their relationship.

The Great Wizard Gilbert of Prussia was hunched over in his chair, meticulously dissecting a hibiscus blossom with deft fingers. Surrounding him were bottles of things he didn't even _want_ to think about- among them foul-smelling liquids, dead fish, various snake venoms, and a particularly evil-smelling red triangle cut from the largest, but by far most disgusting, flower he had ever laid eyes upon. It had taken him months to accumulate all the ingredients, trekking from country to country to find the perfect specimen. It was all for this potion, this one glorious potion which would mean life or death-

"Gil, you're talking to yourself again," an exasperated, decidedly feminine voice interrupted, and he nearly ripped the flower apart in his shock.

"Don't fucking _do_ that!" he yelled as soon as he got his heart back under control. Shit, had he just said all that out loud? "You're freaking the hell out of me with your creepy ninja..." He was about to say something, but caught Elizaveta's murderous glare and changed it hurriedly. "Tendencies."

Elizaveta huffed, putting both hands on her hips and glaring at him. "I _am_ trying to work, you know. You should be grateful I'm even cleaning up after you!"

Gilbert's workspace was the highest room in the tower, with a large glass dome serving as the roof, the wide chessboard floor tiled black and white, and various magical tools stored in tall shelves along the circular wall. The room was a marvel of both technological and mystical powers, with high arches that seemed to be supported only by magic, and warding runes etched into different surfaces to prevent anyone save Gilbert, Elizaveta, and his former student from even existing inside the chamber. Most of the magic in it had been put into place by Gilbert himself when he had constructed the tower, with only a few little spells added by Arthur to make the place more like a home. Gilbert had to commend his student- the charm he had put on the wall paintings to make them move was an amusement, and it seemed almost impossible to break. Of course, he had the power to- he was just that awesome after all- but he rather liked seeing the painted fairies dance around the walls, even if it was a little girly. Pixies were hilarious little buggers when they pulled pranks on the elves.

Of course all this only added to Elizaveta's frustration ("I can't see if there's any dirt with all your magic junk moving around!") since she had appointed herself his personal assistant a few years ago. Even now the feather duster in her hand looked more like a potential weapon than anything else. Gilbert raised his hands in surrender, the half-dissected flower still pinched between two fingers. "Hang on, I'm almost done! We didn't just trek around the world for you to ruin it now!"

She sighed, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. A spelled chair, seeming to notice her tiredness, floated to rest behind her, and she sank to sit with a grateful look. "Gil, finish it up quickly. It's nearing dusk, and I know you haven't eaten for days."

"Liz, this potion's the most important fucking thing in the world to me right now, you know that." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he finished stripping the delicate skin from the hibiscus pistil. He saw her frown and guilt crept up on him, but he forced himself to focus on the procedure. "If I wait any longer, who knows what might happen?"

She leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees. "Yeah, I know. But it's not going to help if you're just going to work yourself to death."

He sighed, taking a small knife. The flower was down to only a tiny yellow bell-like structure hanging from a fragile thread, and he carefully sliced it into small slivers. "Yeah, I get it, I get it." He pushed the little pieces away, standing up and moving in front of a cauldron full of boiling water. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. "Let's get this shit started!" he crowed, and in an instant Elizaveta stood beside him, an excited smirk on her face.

In went ingredient after ingredient, all of them having been prepared beforehand, thrown in the precise order and quantity. Gilbert and Elizaveta covered their noses as the potion roiled in the cauldron, sending out fumes and turning from clear to mint green to orange than to a violent purple. The liquid bubbled and burst before settling down finally, turning a pretty shade of aquamarine that reflected their stunned faces perfectly. Gilbert stirred it thrice counter clockwise, and a sweet cherry scent wafted up.

"That was it?" Elizaveta asked in surprise. "All that trouble, and we just had to dunk everything in and stir it a few times?"

He grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her back and forth. "Liz! Don't you get it? It's awesome!" He let go of her, dancing around the room, laughing maniacally. _Oh yeah, I'm the best!_ "Shit, Liz, I'm like the fifth fucking person in fucking _history_ to brew the Scrying Potion! Isn't it great?"

"Yes, yes, fine, you're awesome-" Elizaveta began in exasperation, cracking an amused smile nevertheless.

Gilbert wrapped an arm around her waist, spinning her around in a circle. "No, _we're_ awesome," he corrected, then he kissed her on the cheek.

In an instant, Gilbert pulled away, turning his face to hide the blush staining his neck up to his ears. _Damn it, why do I have to be so friggin' pale?_ He didn't look back, panicking at what Elizaveta's reaction would be. God, what if she hated him? "So," he said gruffly, turning to pull a polished clam shell from a drawer. "Let's just start the scrying, yeah?"

Elizaveta was silent, and Gilbert heard her scooping up some potion with a ladle. Still averting his eyes, he motioned to her to pour it into the shell.

The potion seemed to glimmer from far into its aquamarine depths, seeming much deeper than it really was. With bated breath, he dropped a lock of his student's hair into the liquid, watching it turn clear. He and Elizaveta leaned closer to see.

They saw their own anxious faces reflected back at them, and Gilbert frowned, about to complain about the uselessness of the potion when suddenly the reflection morphed to show the interior of the room, then the outside of the tower. In split seconds, forests and valleys were flashing by on the surface of the liquid, as if they were flying faster and faster- then it stopped.

It revealed Arthur, on his knees on a rough stone floor, dusting a set of ivory elephant figurines. Gilbert furrowed his brows in confusion. What was he doing there? He watched as Arthur stood, reaching high up to balance the figurines on top of a tall, carved oak wardrobe. He had just leaned back, looking critically at his work, when a huge golden shout nudged his side, a forked tongue slipping out to lick at his cheek.

"The dragon!" Gilbert breathed in shock. It was without a doubt the same dragon that had taken Elizaveta almost two years ago, the one he had fought and defeated. He narrowed his eyes. "That _fucking_ dragon."

He watched in growing fury as Arthur, obviously too terrified to fight back, was forced against the wall of the cave. The dragon's electric blue eyes glinted with raw malice and its teeth were bared ina threatening snarl. Gilbert couldn't read Arthur's lips, but they were moving fast- no doubt he was begging for mercy from his oppressor. "_So_ not awesome," he muttered. Beside him, Elizaveta gave a noise of agreement.

The potion's time limit was almost up, and Gilbert studied the scene intently as it shifted momentarily to show the outside of Arthur's prison- a large cave set into a sheer, rocky cliff dropping down into a dense forest. Gilbert had only split seconds to memorise the landscape as it rushed backwards, twisting through trees and meadows until it came to a stop, showing the inside of Gilbert's workspace, then shifting and calming to reflect their faces again. There was a long, tense silence, then Elizaveta spoke up.

"We're gonna get him back," she stated in a tone that brooked no argument. "Did you see where the cave was?"

"Yeah, I got it." Gilbert moved over to his desk, bringing out a map. He pointed to a small green dot surrounded by dark woods. "This is the meadow where I fought- where I sent you that time." He hoped she hadn't noticed his slip-up. "I caught a glimpse of it when we were going in reverse."

"So looking at the places nearby..." Elizaveta placed a finger on the dot representing the small field. "This is about, what, nineteen leagues from the tower? If the tower showed about a second after this-"

Calculating quickly, Gilbert cursed when he reached the answer. "We're looking for a cliff within a thirty-eight league radius from the meadow!" He twirled his finger in a circle, and a shimmering purple line appeared on the map. "That's our range."

"We can cut out those two near the coast," she said. "And obviously those cliffs that are in the direction of this tower shouldn't be a part of it."

He crossed them out with more purple lines. "We're looking for something in a more or less straight line from the tower to the field, since it would be weird for the potion to snake around corners like that." He studied the map intensely for a few moments. "Here!" Gilbert yelled in triumph, slamming a finger down on a drawing of a solitary plateau that was about halfway between the meadow and the edge of their range. "It's the only lone rock formation there. That's gotta be it!"

"Ready to do some recon?" Elizaveta said, smirking and giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

He could feel an answering grin tug at his lips. "Is that a challenge? Hell yeah, you're on! Let me just-"

He was interrupted by a square of parchment zooming in through the doorway. It was part of his security system- visitors would have to wait at the base of the tower, say their names and purpose, which would then be written down by a magical quill and flown up to him to read and approve. To his surprise, however, the parchment kept floating steadily right in front of Elizaveta.

She picked it up, scanning it quickly. "It's Roderich," she said simply.

He stared at her in silence for a moment, then sneered. "Well, go have fun with your precious pansy-arsed suitor. I'm off to the cave."

She made no noise of protest, her eyes unreadable, and Gilbert turned around and teleported himself to the dragon's lair.

* * *

"Damn pansy," he muttered under his breath as he materialised at the base of the cliff. He raised the pitch of his voice. "Ooh, I'm Roderich _fucking_ Edelstein, so much better than that awesome wizard, yes sir! I can get any girl I want with my piano and my stupid gay fucking _beauty spot!_"

He kicked a stone out of the way, watching it slam and bounce against the wall of the cliff. "What does she see in him?" he growled. "She knows I hate his guts, and I'm her best friend! Wouldn't I know if she wouldn't be happy with him?" He hit his head against the rock. "Now is _not_ the time for this," he berated himself. "Somewhere up there is your student and a horrible, fire-breathing dragon. That's more important than some broad and her love life."

He looked up, trying to see where the cave would be. He found nothing. "Looks like it's gonna take a while," he said to himself thoughtfully, then he rapidly levitated himself up along the wall of rock. It would take some time to reach the cave, he knew, so he let his mind wander. He couldn't take on the dragon yet, at least not until he knew exactly what he was up against. He had gotten lucky in the meadow, but perhaps it would not be as willing to let go of Arthur. He would just have to watch and see for now.

He could hear voices from above him; he must be getting closer. He slowed his ascent until he could climb onto a ledge just below the mouth of the cave, crouching so as not to alert them to his presence. It would be too risky to reveal himself to Arthur.

A low groan startled him out of his thoughts.

"Nngh, Alfred!"

_Alfred?_ Gilbert thought. _So the dragon has a name._

"Alfred, not- ah!"

"Come on, Arthur, stop being such a spoilsport," another voice said, and Gilbert's blood boiled at the knowledge that it must be the dragon. He could hear the snarl hidden within the fake cheery tone. The dragon would not fool him. "It's fun, don't you think?"

Gilbert's hands clenched the rock in anger. He could just imagine it- Arthur pinned by a dragon's claw, or perhaps a shape shifter with a knife, forced to submit to the sick torture that only a beast would think of.

"A-_Ah_! Call it whatever you like, I'm not admitting anything!"

There was the Arthur he knew; stubborn as a mule and unafraid of anything. Gilbert grinned. At least he had taught him well.

Above him he could only hear groans and the occasional muffled shout; he didn't want to imagine what his student was being subjected to, and strengthened his resolve to find a way to get Arthur safely back. He was just about to float himself down when he heard a shrill scream.

"_ALFRED_!"

That was it! Gilbert growled, leaping off the ledge and free-falling towards the ground, uncaring of the wind that whipped his cloak up and the sight of the trees rushing closer and closer. He was furious. _No one messes with the Great Wizard's friends and comes out alive._

He closed his eyes and concentrated hard, teleporting himself in mid-air to his workspace where Elizaveta was waiting for him.

"Well?" she demanded.

"I couldn't get a look," he said truthfully, marching to his bookshelf and pulling out thick, dusty volumes. "The dragon is a shape shifter, and apparently his name is Alfred. I mean, who the hell names a kid _Alfred_? And he was fucking _torturing_ Arthur!"

"Torturing?" she shrieked. "Why, when I'm finished with him-"

"Yeah, I heard Arthur moaning and that Alfred bastard was so damned smug-!" Gilbert stopped himself from crushing the book in his strong grip. "He made him _scream_, Liz. Have you ever known Artie to scream? This dragon's a fucking psycho."

From the corner of his eye he noticed Elizaveta's entire demeanor had changed- she stiffened up, flushing a little and looking confused, then an entirely too predatory smile spread across her face. Gilbert sighed- he wouldn't want to get on the bad side of a woman like that. "So he's a shapeshifter, eh?" she asked slowly, moving over to flip through a potions book.

"He must be, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to talk," Gilbert replied, his confidence wavering slightly. "What, is there a brew or something you're looking for?"

Elizaveta's eyes gleamed. "I know just the thing."

* * *

Arthur gave one last sigh of bliss, still unwilling to leave the clear spring inside the cave. The water was cool across his skin in the heat of the day, but if he waited for too long he would definitely be as wrinkled as a prune- and the Lord only knew how long Alfred would laugh at him about it.

He eased himself out of the pool reluctantly, shrugging on his favourite robe, one that Alfred claimed to have found in the Middle Kingdom in Asia. He blushed as he put it on; he hardly ever wore it, because it was too... well, improper would be an apt description. But the dark, swirling patterns on the sheerest silk he had ever laid his eyes on, the way the rosewood-coloured fabric slid like liquid over his body, the ease with which it could be put on- and thus, removed- was indecently delightful, and his face burned to think of his vanity, but he thought he could indulge himself just this once. After all, there was no one in the cave to see.

_Or perhaps not._ He tilted his head curiously as he spied a basket near the edge of the cave mouth. Had Alfred dropped off lunch and continued hunting still? It wouldn't be the first time, but it was odd behaviour for the dragon, and he would always mention any change of plans to Arthur.

He stared at the basket in puzzlement- where would he have found that?- then walked over to it, looking at the folds of the blue and white fabric inside. Alfred was nothing if not resourceful, but even this was surprising. And surely the idiot would have made _some_ noise when dropping it off- unless Arthur had fallen asleep in the spring, which wasn't as unusual as he wished. Gingerly, he lifted the corners of the cloth to see what was inside- then he froze.

Sitting invitingly on the fabric were several pieces of chicken, perfectly roasted to a glistening dark brown. His eyes slid shut and he took a deep breath, delighting in the delicious scent wafting up. God, when was the last time he had eaten chicken? It couldn't have been more than a week ago during that disastrous dinner with his brothers- he smirked at the memory of what came next- but his mouth was watering at the mere sight and smell of it. He could just imagine biting into the soft meat, tasting the juice spilling out...

Before he knew it he was sinking his teeth into a leg, savouring the slightly sweet, _perfect_ flavour. He ate his way through the pieces like a starving man, casting away the bones of meat that was _so gloriously not beef_ until he finished them all, and he leaned back with a satisfied sigh. He half-expected Alfred to pop up and tease him about being so gluttonous, or perhaps some curse to come from the mysterious meal, but nothing happened. _Perhaps it is my lucky day after all_, he thought, pleased.

He took the basket and set it to the side for washing; normally he would wash the oil out immediately, but somehow he didn't feel like doing it quite yet. He glanced over to a more shadowy part of the cave, seeing the gold and velvet throne that Alfred had recently acquired. He had always wanted to try sitting in it, but the dragon was horribly possessive of the thing, and it was probably the one item he never let Arthur touch, apart from the rusty pipe. He felt a little bolder than usual though- who cared if he sat in it? He didn't, that was for sure.

He had just sat down on the black velvet covering when there was a rush of air and the beating of huge, leathery wings from the mouth of the cave. Alfred was back. Arthur narrowed his eyes as the dragon transformed, catching through the white mist a glimpse of metallic scales melting and sliding into gold-tinged skin, wings folding into a strong, powerful back. His breath caught in his throat.

Alfred turned to him as the mist cleared, holding up a small cloth bundle. "Hey Artie, I was really hungry earlier so I ate ahead, but here's yours! I hope you don't... mind..." His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing in my chair?"

Arthur smirked, feeling a little reckless. "Oh, I just needed to relax," he answered, reaching his arms up and stretching to demonstrate.

He heard Alfred's sharp intake of breath. "What are you- what are you wearing?"

He smiled. "This? It's nothing, really." He raked his eyes up and down Alfred's body, nodding in approval. He licked his lips.

In an instant the bundle was dropped, and he found himself pinned to the throne, Alfred's arms on either side of him. He could feel the other's harsh breathing fluttering warm across his skin. "Nothing, huh?"

Arthur leaned up and nipped gently at Alfred's lower lip, worrying it between his teeth. Alfred pushed him harder against the back of the chair, and Arthur let out a gasp as the breath was knocked out of him, and he was kissed again, forceful and heavy, pressing his head to the throne and making the blood pound in his ears. He opened his mouth invitingly, twisting his fingers in Alfred's golden hair, and felt him do the same. He tugged Alfred's hair back, hard, until their lips were barely touching and their tongues slid and slipped against each other, and Arthur felt sharp teeth graze him lightly, and he shuddered in delight.

A hand slid under the silk robe, slipping to tug at the ribbon holding it together, but Arthur stopped him with a finger and a playful grin. "Patience, love. Don't get too far ahead of yourself." He looped an arm around Alfred's neck and tugged him down for a light kiss, whispering into his mouth. "Let's take this somewhere more appropriate. Shall we?"

Arthur found himself swept up in Alfred's arms and carried over to the large bed in the centre of the cave. Alfred's hands were holding him gently by the backs of his thighs, just under the curve of his ass, and Arthur leaned forward and down, darting his tongue out mischievously to lick at his neck, feeling the muscles shiver under the rough scale pattern.

"You're distracting me," he whispered with a little laugh, tightening his grip and hoisting Arthur up higher. Arthur curled a finger under Alfred's chin, lifting his face up gently to place a chaste kiss on his lips, feeling him smile into his mouth.

Slowly, carefully, Alfred laid Arthur down on the mattress, propping his shoulders up with pillows. "You're acting very uncharacteristically today," he murmured, trailing kisses down the line of his jaw. "Did anything strange happen?"

"Big words. I'm impressed," Arthur quipped, smirking at the noise of protest Alfred made. He let out an 'mmm' of contentment as Alfred moved from his jaw to his neck, then down to suck at his collarbone. "I did actually find a ready-made meal for me near the edge of the cliff. It was quite-" _Ahh. _"Delicious."

Alfred abruptly stopped, raising himself up on his arms and looming over Arthur in shock and concern. "And you _ate_ it?" he shouted, flailing about and checking Arthur's vital signs in panic. "Didn't you think it was suspicious? Oh my God, Artie, what if it was poisoned-!"

Arthur pulled him down again and kissed him harshly. "Honestly, love, I don't give a fuck right now," he breathed into the space between Alfred's lips. "And you really shouldn't either."

Alfred furrowed his brow and drew away hesitantly. "But Artie-"

Arthur sighed impatiently, bending his knees so his feet were flat on the sheets. "Fine then, if you're so unwilling, I guess I'll just have to entertain myself." He let his legs fall open.

Alfred inhaled sharply, and Arthur smirked lazily, dragging a hand down his chest, tugging at the ribbon on his robe until it came free, leaving him exposed. He shivered a little from the breeze and the dragon's stare, then he trailed his fingers lower to wrap around his erection.

"Mmm," he moaned, his eyelids slipping half-closed as he lost himself in the sensation, sliding his fingers slowly up and down. Despite having still been a virgin only a week ago, he wasn't new to this feeling- but somehow it was different doing this in front of Alfred. It felt so indecent, so obscene, but- _oh..._

"Keep going, darling," he heard Alfred say breathlessly when he slowed, and he opened his eyes to see him slack-jawed and staring transfixed, as if he had never seen a more beautiful sight. Arthur's breath caught in his throat at the look in Alfred's eyes; it was dark and adoring, possessive and enraptured, and Arthur threw his head back into the pillows and moaned, his hand sliding faster.

A large, warm hand wrapped around his, and his eyes shot open again in surprise as Alfred leaned over and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. "You looked a little lonely," he said with a grin. He moved his hand, Arthur letting his own be guided, panting softly and whimpering when Alfred squeezed his fingers lightly.

He thrust his other hand in Alfred's hair, fisting the golden locks. "Suck me off," he commanded breathily, tugging Alfred down.

"As you wish, milady," Alfred answered, grinning, and Arthur could have slapped him for using that old nickname at such an inappropriate time, but then he felt the other's breath on his hips and suddenly he was engulfed in a deliciously warm, wet heat, and all conscious thought flew out of his mind.

"Oh God, yes, Alfred, just like that- _Alfred_!" he moaned, hips thrusting up wildly until they were grabbed and roughly held down by strong hands. Arthur found himself pinned to the mattress, writhing in Alfred's grip, fisting the sheets desperately. Obscene, wet noises filled the air, punctuated by Arthur's whines and pleas for _more, faster, oh please-!_

Sharp teeth brushed against sensitive skin, and Arthur arched his back and _keened_, a piercing wail that echoed through the cave. He felt Alfred smile around his cock, and he squirmed, wanting more. Knowing that he was literally at the dragon's mercy sent shivers up his spine. Alfred moved, taking him impossibly deeper into his throat, and Arthur screamed again as teeth hit the base of his cock.

Alfred drew away. "Did I hurt you?"

Arthur sat up, fisting Alfred's hair tightly. "Don't you _dare_ stop," he all but growled, pushing his head down almost desperately.

Alfred's eyes seemed to gleam mischievously. "Of course, milady," he said again, lowering his head and licking a clean line up the underside of Arthur's cock.

"Nngh!"

Alfred continued his ministrations, covering Arthur with kisses, fingers digging into his hips to keep him from bucking up. He licked and sucked, more than once taking Arthur completely into his mouth, making him writhe and cry out loudly.

Opening eyes that he hadn't even realised he had squeezed shut, Arthur loosened his grip on Alfred's hair and stared at him, enjoying the sight of himself disappearing into the warm, wet mouth. Alfred caught his eye and the corners of his lips quirked up slightly around him as he moved his head up and down, saliva dripping down his chin. Arthur let out an unashamed moan at the feeling of the moisture sliding down his length and between his legs.

He was getting closer, he could feel it; his skin was beaded with sweat and every nerve felt like it was on fire. There was a painful pressure building up inside him, and he threw his head back and writhed helplessly, desperate for relief, desperate for-

Alfred's teeth slid across his skin again and Arthur came with a cry, clenching his eyes shut and tightening his grip on the blond hair wound between his fingers. He vaguely registered hands letting go of his hips, and he bucked into Alfred's still open mouth, riding out his orgasm until he collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily and shuddering.

"We should do this more often," Alfred said, not bothering to wipe the cum off his chin and instead moving up to hover over Arthur's body, leaning in to lick droplets of sweat from his skin.

"Agreed," Arthur replied, catching his breath. "I can't believe we've never tried it before."

Alfred dropped his head, leaning closer and kissing him deeply; Arthur darted his tongue out, swiping it around the inside of Alfred's mouth and tasting himself. He raised his hands to rest on the other's broad shoulders, fingers brushing the nape of his neck, then with an almighty push he rolled them both over so he was on top. He broke the kiss, smirking at the bewildered expression on Alfred's face.

"Arthur, what-?" he began in confusion.

He trailed a hand down Alfred's chest. "Just shut up and let me work."

A hitched breath was all the permission he needed to continue, and he grinned, leaning down to nip at the side of Alfred's neck. His teeth dragged across the rough surface of the scale outlines, and the other gasped; he smiled, pressing his lips to the skin and biting gently. He sucked lightly, and Alfred couldn't stifle a moan.

"Sensitive there, are we?" Arthur murmured into his neck. "Wonderful."

"You- ah!" Alfred cried out as Arthur stroked his tongue along the patterns. "You should get like this more often."

"Mmm," Arthur agreed, smirking. "Perhaps I should." He moved his mouth down Alfred's body, kissing and nipping until he left a trail of red marks on the golden skin, stopping at one hard nipple. "Hm, I wonder, what should I do with _this_ now?"

Alfred closed his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose. "Oh fuck- Arthur _please_."

Arthur grinned. "Very well."

He ducked down to engulf it with his mouth, sucking and nipping and laving his tongue across it, loving the sounds that Alfred made. He snaked up a hand to lavish the same attention on the other side, rubbing himself on Alfred's stomach as his arousal slowly reawakened. His movements spread the sticky liquid between their bodies.

"We're making a right mess of ourselves, aren't we?" Arthur said, breathing the words on the nipple still in his mouth, smiling as Alfred let out a pleased groan.

"I really-" he gasped. "_Really_ don't give a damn right now."

Alfred reached down and between them, taking a firm hold on Arthur's cock and tugging none too gently. Arthur gasped, arching up and feeling himself stiffening again, losing himself to the motions of the other's hand as it slid across his skin. He was already half-hard, but everything was so frustratingly _not enough_ that he could have cried in desperation.

"Slow down, sweetheart, we've got all the time in the world," Alfred said, taking Arthur's hand in his and kissing the palm, smiling against it.

"I want it _now_," Arthur whined, thrusting up into Alfred's hand. "And don't call me that!"

Alfred laughed. "Weren't you the one who told me to be patient earlier?" He slowly, slowly stroked Arthur back to full arousal, his eyes closing as his neck was peppered with open-mouthed kisses. He twisted his fingers occasionally, earning himself a delighted moan every time.

Arthur felt him rock gently upward, hard cock brushing across his backside. A hand grasped him firmly by the hip again, ready to flip them around, but he held onto it and brought it down to the mattress. "I'm in charge this time, love," he whispered into Alfred's ear, licking the shell and enjoying the shiver the action elicited. "So just let me have my fun, hm?" Alfred groaned in response. "Now, where did we keep that nice-smelling lotion from Brazil?"

"Mmm, it was around here somewhere," Alfred muttered, whipping a hand out and feeling underneath the pillows for the bottle. "I thought I tossed it somewhere here last ni-"

"You mean you didn't put it back _properly_?"

"I had more important things to think about, you know? Damn, where is that thing?"

"Alfred, if you've lost the lube-" Arthur began threateningly.

"It should be around he- ah! Found it!" He held the bottle up triumphantly and grinned. "I'm not _that_ hopeless."

"Brilliant." Arthur swiped the bottle from his hand, squeezing a generous amount on Alfred's fingers. He gripped the wrist with surprising strength, guiding it behind him and leaning forward to kiss Alfred and breathe the words into his mouth. "Open me up?"

"_Fuck_," Alfred growled, pulling Arthur's neck down and biting at his mouth. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"On the contrary, love," Arthur replied in a whisper, smirking despite the sharp teeth tugging at his lip. "I know exactly what I do to you." He pressed his hips further against Alfred's, grinning at the whine he received in reward.

Alfred fumbled for a moment before finding his entrance, circling it slowly with his fingers before pressing one in, inch by inch. Arthur pushed back against it, loosened from the previous night and demanding more, and Alfred complied, pressing in a second finger until he was stifling whimpers of discomfort, writhing and not knowing whether his body wanted to escape or feel more. Gentle fingers carded through his hair and found a comfortable spot under his chin, tilting it up slightly, and Alfred kissed him slowly as he worked on loosening Arthur more.

Alfred kissed the side of Arthur's jaw softly as he stretched his fingers out, and Arthur's eyes clenched shut at the pain that would never truly be familiar to him, no matter how often he experienced it. Despite the burn, he still relentlessly pushed back against the digits inside him, forcing himself to stretch out and spread out. It wasn't long before Alfred withdrew his fingers with an obscene, wet sucking noise, and Arthur positioned himself so that his entrance was directly above the head of Alfred's cock.

"Are you ready?" Arthur asked, his voice shaking a little from the phantom feeling of fingers inside him. Alfred nodded wordlessly.

Arthur threw his hips down, and Alfred _screamed_. Arthur grit his teeth against the pain of the sudden intrusion, scrambling to grab fistfuls of the sheets and willing his eyes to stop watering. Alfred was only halfway in. He waited a moment for them both to adjust before moving, sliding himself up and gasping as the action relieved the burn a little before slowly pushing down, pressing more and more of Alfred into him. Despite the preparation, he had to bite his cheek to keep himself from crying out as his muscles stretched unnaturally around the thick cock inside him.

Alfred's hand soon found his on the mattress, covering it and squeezing gently. "Baby, we can stop if you want," he whispered, brushing a thumb across the back of his palm.

Arthur shook his head, noticing how Alfred was visibly trembling from the effort to keep from thrusting up into him. "You're too nice for your own good," he murmured, leaning forward and resting his head on the broad chest in front of him. "It's okay, love; I can handle it. I want this." With that he forced himself the rest of the way down, entwining his fingers with Alfred's and gripping tightly.

Everything was silent for a few moments, except for the panting breaths and small whimpers coming from them both as they fought to regain control of themselves. Arthur was the first one to recover, sliding up and pressing down again until he found a steady rhythm and the pain slowly morphed into a familiar, welcome pleasure. He went faster, never once letting go of Alfred's hand as the sensations ebbed and flowed, falling less and less until the feeling was rising steadily and he moving in a frenzy that conscious thought couldn't quite comprehend and the words spilling out of his mouth were reduced to incoherent whimpers and moans.

"Sweetheart," the still motionless Alfred groaned in supplication, nails digging into the back of Arthur's hand. Arthur didn't stop his movements, only throwing his head back and murmuring a breathy _yes_ of anticipation.

With a short, strangled cry Alfred thrust up into Arthur's hips, nearly knocking the other off with the force of the sudden movement. Arthur only moaned, leaning forward and grasping the other hand in his for balance. They moved together, up and down, in and out in time with their breathing; no thought swirled in their minds but that they needed this, needed _each other_ more than the noises that poured from their lips could capture in their desperation.

Arthur began to speak his name, but his mouth went slack around the words and all that came out was another moan, loud and unashamed. The muscles in his thighs and back were trembling with the effort to keep himself moving to meet Alfred halfway, and he just knew he was going to give in and give up. His head was pounding and he wanted more, so much more, but determination gave way to exhaustion and he shuddered, spreading his body limply across Alfred's chest.

Alfred let go of one of his hands, placing a finger under his chin and tilting his head up for a slow kiss. He continued each push and roll of his hips, and with each thrust Arthur bounced up and fell back down. Arthur let himself be moved by the sheer strength that never failed to overwhelm him, losing himself to the pleasure that was quickly cresting at the warm friction, pleasure that was threatening to spill.

"Arthur, _Arthur_," Alfred moaned as he rocked up into the inviting heat of Arthur's body, the thrusts coming in almost inhumanly faster.

"Please," Arthur begged, though he didn't know quite what he was begging for, only that he was hard and desperate and _exhausted_. He was caught in Alfred's embrace, letting himself be moved and bounced, aching for relief from the pleasure building up almost painfully. "Please."

The arm around him tightened and before he knew it Alfred was coming with a deep, possessive snarl, hot breath in his ear and growls vibrating through both their chests. Alfred pushed up, pressing his cum in deeper, and Arthur clenched his eyes shut and _screamed_ as the force of his own orgasm made his tired muscles spasm and tighten around the cock still inside him. He stayed like that even as the arm that had been holding him down was lifted, milking Alfred for all he was worth until the waves of pleasure crashing down on him subsided and he was left trembling and panting.

Alfred pulled out of him gently, rolling them on their sides and moving so that his chest could curve up around Arthur's back. Arthur felt warm, slightly rough lips press softly against the back of his neck and he smiled tiredly.

"That was wonderful," was the mumbled assurance in his ear, and Arthur chuckled at how overwhelmed Alfred sounded, as if he had never experienced anything like that in his life. Granted, neither had Arthur, but the thought was still endearing. He had just opened his mouth to give a sleepy reply when Alfred spoke again.

"You know, I've seriously got to start bringing home more chicken."

Despite his exhaustion, Arthur still managed to muster the energy to turn around and slap him. "You're the most unromantic git on the planet," he said grumpily, folding his arms and nevertheless pressing his hands against Alfred's chest.

Alfred only laughed and pulled him closer before they both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Gilbert wobbled a little as he touched down on the ground, making sure Elizaveta was floated down safely. His head ached. Shit, what had he just seen?

"Fuck," he declared, falling to his knees and cradling his head in his hands. "_Fuck_."

He couldn't see Elizaveta from between his fingers but he was sure she was laughing at him. He was right. "Come on, it's not like you're a virgin!"

"Yesterday you said it was a foolproof plan!" he yelled, clenching his eyes shut. "If the dragon ate it, he would have died, if a human ate it-"

"He would have lost inhibition, yes?" was the sweetly-spoken reply, and Gilbert groaned.

"He was supposed to _lose inhibition_, not go crazy!" he moaned, clutching at his hair. "He was supposed to kill the dragon! Oh sweet Lord, that was my _student_! I did not just watch my student get it on with another man!"

"Well, what did you expect?"

Gilbert's head whipped around and he stared at Elizaveta suspiciously. "What did _you_ expect?" he shot back, more than a little concerned.

Elizaveta waved his accusation away smugly. "I think it's wonderful. Even if it didn't turn out like we thought it would, we managed to do a good deed," she said, sighing and pressing her hands to her chest. "Didn't you just feel the love?"

"I feel _sick_," Gilbert groaned, burying his face in his hands again. "I think I need to brew up something to erase that image from my brain. Bleach, preferably."

"Oh get a grip on yourself, you moron, you didn't even watch most of it!" She marched over to him, hauling him up and punching him hard in the shoulder.

"And I wouldn't be surprised if you did," he moaned miserably. "Or if you planned this. Why couldn't you have been born modest and cute like all the other girls?"

The comment earned him a harsh slap, but he shrugged it off. _It could have been worse,_ he thought to himself as he rubbed the reddening mark on his cheek. _She could have broken my nose again._

"Come on, we've got other things to do," she said commandingly, and he looked at her then, flushed and happy, with a sparkle in her eye and a smile that spoke of a great achievement just completed.

He supposed he could forgive her.

He held out a hand and wrapped it around her warm, slim fingers. "Let's go home," he said with a grin, teleporting them away.

* * *

**A/N: **Whew! I hoped you liked it :D It took me quite a while to write.

Anyway here is the AMAZINGLY CUTE fanart that **stoic-green **did for me: http :/ /lumesce .deviantart .com /art /APH -Alfred -the -Racist -Dragon -169643579

And in case anyone missed them, here are the two also amazing fanarts that **Ellarose C **did! http :/ /i49 .tinypic .com /qx8hmv .jpg and http :/ /luna-wannabe .deviantart .com /art /Alfred -the -Racist -Dragon -161342755 ?q=&qo= :) Thank you guys so much for reading! Please leave a review if you have the time. :D


End file.
